


Raw

by visionofblue (merelyafigment)



Series: Shifting Alliances 'Verse [7]
Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: M/M, PWP, With feelings that Miguel finally gets a clue about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:53:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25819132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelyafigment/pseuds/visionofblue
Summary: Direct sequel to"Slippery", takes place right after those events, as soon as they find a storage room. Ryan needs release. (Originally posted elsewhere back in 2005.)
Relationships: Miguel Alvarez/Ryan O'Reily
Series: Shifting Alliances 'Verse [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862302
Kudos: 9





	Raw

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: I should probably always warn for how the guys of Emcity talk and act. There's always a chance of bad language, racial and homophobic slurs, etc.

It was twenty minutes before Miguel managed to get Ryan alone. It seemed like ages.

Ryan was on him -- damp clash of lips, parting and stroking that hot tongue into his mouth, pelvis rubbing against his hip-- the very fucking second Miguel got the door closed behind him. It was like being attacked by pure lanky sex -- moving, taking, and fervently pressing against him. Ryan was already fucking hard, the solid dig of him grinding into Miguel.

Miguel just groaned and swallowed Ryan's need with heated kisses. He liked Ryan like this, desperate, all because of him. He sucked on that eager tongue in his mouth, grasping Ryan's body nice and hard, pulling him even further into it. More than happy to meet the sudden passion running him over.

"Jesus…" Miguel exhaled, impressed, when Ryan's mouth finally slipped off his to steal some breath.

Ryan pinned him with a dark lustful gaze that made Miguel press closer, harder, as Ryan didn't stop grinding against him for a second, practically fucking riding Miguel's hip. The look on Ryan's face, his hot panting breath, was a breathtaking full dose of the tiny glimpses of need Miguel had seen across the shower room earlier. 

"Want you." Ryan's deep-voiced words were followed by nips along Miguel's jaw, even as Ryan used the time to gulp down more breath. 

"Yeah, I noticed that, tiburón." Miguel was slightly steadier on his feet, slightly less desperate. But he liked that Ryan was this far gone, even as he felt a little bad for stoking this in Ryan and then making him wait until they could meet. 

"Mm…come on then, baby." Miguel said, with his own velvety growling voice that Ryan seemed to really enjoy.

Both men's hands went to Ryan's zipper, sped by the immediacy of need. Ryan moved his hand away and let Miguel take care of it, once Ryan realized that he was going to. Ryan was left free to just kiss along his neck, hands slapped up on the wall behind Miguel momentarily, one on either side of his head. That body open to Miguel, yet practically curled around him and enclosing him in limbs and heat there against the wall, at the same time. As he got Ryan's zipper down and pulled him out, Miguel decided he was going to make the earlier tease up to Ryan, on his knees. Fuck -- Ryan had gone commando for this, and that was hot for a reason Miguel couldn't name.

But as he got Ryan's cock free, Miguel took a second to just look at Ryan, take him in. Chest moving from heavy breaths, intense gaze caressing him, long arms reaching out framing Miguel still, Ryan's dick heavy and glistening just a little from the leak of pre-cum. Miguel's staring took enough time that Ryan didn't let him slide down, didn't give him the room. 

He grasped Miguel's right wrist in his warm grip, bringing Miguel's hand to his mouth. Miguel groaned as Ryan licked a couple rough wet swipes over his palm, too full of dirty intent to tickle. 

Seemed like Ryan had other plans. Miguel went along with it, reaching his damp hand back down quickly, before the air could cool and dry the slick saliva on it, wrapping it smoothly around Ryan's hardness. 

Ryan's sigh of relief was joyous and gasping, exhaled right across Miguel's lips as he moved in, closing the bare inch of space between their mouths for another kiss. Ryan just opened for him, letting him in and tangling with his tongue. 

Miguel's grip slid over Ryan, nice and wet, rubbing over the head to get a little of that pre-cum to make it extra slick. Ryan was still thrusting, chasing into the stroke of Miguel's hand now, bodies rubbing with the movement in the tight space. _Very nice_. All about the rush and friction. Miguel was getting hard himself, but he ignored it for the moment, as much as he could. Ryan was the one that had been denied earlier, Miguel could wait now.

Ryan's hand moved off the wall with the slip of his thrusts, both arms going around Miguel, winding behind him between his body and the wall, hands clutching him softly, sliding over his back. Ryan's hips were still jacking up into his grip, close, almost impeding Miguel's strokes a little, while their mouths met between breaths the whole time.

Ryan finally just pressed even closer, leg slipping between Miguel's a little. 

"Here…just…Mm--" Ryan groaned softly, hips stroking up into Miguel's hand more than anything now. "Yeah…let me…" Ryan didn't finish his distracted, broken sentence, losing whatever he had to say in Miguel's mouth.

Miguel's arm was impeded by the press of bodies, by Ryan's embrace, by Ryan's body leading the stroke more than Miguel's hand in its now cramped slide that was increasingly being pressed into his hip.

Ryan was _fucking his hand_.

Oh. Fuck.

Miguel knew that, of course, what with Ryan's hips sliding into him, pressing Ryan's dick, and Miguel's hand, close enough to Miguel's body that it was bumping his hand into his thigh at an awkward angle. 

Miguel may have been hard, turned the fuck on by Ryan's neediness, but he wasn't brain dead enough not to notice the actual physical actions taking place. But what Ryan was actually _doing_ didn't fully penetrate at first. Until now. Ryan was subconsciously trying to fuck his hand -- and what was quickly becoming clear to Miguel was that the reason he would be doing so was…

…because that was the closest Ryan could come to something he was allowed to really _fuck_. Move with. Thrust inside of. Deep and rhythmic, taking control, while still pressed all along Miguel's body. Things he couldn't really do with Miguel's mouth. 

Miguel's mind reeled for a minute, head tilting back, grazing the cool wall at the realizations, his mouth going a bit dry.

Ryan took care of that by kissing him, wet heat of Ryan's mouth there again for him. Ryan didn't seem to really notice Miguel's slight spin, probably because Miguel was still stroking him as best he could, still keeping his left arm wrapped welcomingly around Ryan's waist, as he just…kissed Ryan back. Thrown a little, but not enough to stop. Not even enough to make his own dick's enthusiasm falter in the least.

Maybe it was because the Irishman seemed to be following instinct and urge more than a plan, his kiss still strangely sweet and clinging, that it didn't freak Miguel out too much. Ryan just seemed to be blindly following the desire in his body, rather than thinking about what he was doing.

Ryan remembered the old warning about getting near Miguel's ass on every level, apparently. So, he was subconsciously settling for what he could have. And in those eyes that kept sliding to Miguel's, seeming to get lost there between kisses, there was something very…soft…mixed with the heat. Fond and tugging. Needy in a different way than the lust of cock and balls. The deep emotion Ryan held for him along with his ever-present hungry lust seemed even clearer all of a sudden.

So Miguel let him do it that way.

Went further and made it easier. 

Miguel shifted his grip, hand moving off of Ryan's dick just long enough to change the angle and way he was holding Ryan. Miguel gripped him tight, but stayed more still, changing to let Ryan just jack his hips right into Miguel's hand. Until Ryan was fucking his fist for real, pressed close there against Miguel's upper thigh, his hip, Ryan's leg still planted between Miguel's. Miguel straddled it, lean muscle tightly pressed between his thighs.

Felt really fucking good for him. Gave Miguel something to rub against, to feel moving with him, getting his own relieving friction. Ryan's arms were still wrapped around him, hands roughly tracing over Miguel's back in a spread of grasping heat.

"Fuuck…" Ryan's voice was barely a whisper into the crook of Miguel's neck with the change of position, as Ryan took advantage of it fully. Stroking into him, body thrusting smoothly, moving with Miguel -- similar to the way he probably moved when he fucked -- Miguel realized. Just pressed in a more cramped, slightly forced space. 

Miguel suddenly wanted to know more about that. A fleeting spark in his brain, wondering what those hips and that grasping, enclosing, body felt like when it was allowed to follow its real rhythm and meld further with its partner. 

Ryan was so far gone he was already pumping faster, following up with hotly sucking kisses to Miguel's throat, over his collarbone. Gentle, like he was being careful not to mark, but feeling like he was relishing Miguel's body with his mouth just the same. Muttered words cooled the slight damp between kisses. "Fuck, Miguel. Gato. Yesss…so good. Mmm…"

Ryan at his most incoherent. Their bodies rubbed full length now, and the closeness wasn't anywhere near stifling, even with all the clothes. Even as the sweat started tickling Miguel's spine underneath them. Just so fucking good, it added to the heat inside, the feeling of melding with Ryan. Miguel tightened his steady grasp, making a nice flexing fist that moved around Ryan, adding little twists with Ryan's thrusts, enhancing it as much as possible for him. Ryan shivered with it, and Miguel felt it all along his body…and there was that deep rough whimper Miguel loved to hear, caressing his ear.

Miguel groaned, thrusting with Ryan now, grinding against his thigh as Ryan did his best to keep pressing, moving with him, solidly, friction sparking perfectly. It should've been awkward…but the pleasure coursing in his veins, the heat building in his dick and spreading through him meltingly, overrode everything else. 

Ryan was so fucking close to the edge, Miguel could tell as the Irishman kept up his moves. Harder, gaining speed, the head of Ryan's dick slipping all the way through the tunnel of Miguel's fist a couple of times to bump and rub Miguel's body on the other side. That probably would've felt better for Ryan without the rough pants Miguel was wearing, but he wasn't complaining that Miguel could hear.

He was just…gasping, against Miguel's neck, mouth quickly slipping up to sloppily kiss Miguel. Coming. Miguel felt the shudder, the clutching twitch of the arms wrapped around him, the desperate thrusts against him. Into him. Ryan was dragging Miguel right along with him with all that fluid heat, that nice shattering rhythm. Their bodies stayed connected through it, shivers joining, as they tasted each other's groans. 

Ryan gently bit Miguel's earlobe as his now soft, milking, thrusts rode their climaxes out to the end. Miguel was left grinning breathlessly against the side of Ryan's throat, smelling the tang of sweat and aftershave. 

"The shower thing was too much then?" Miguel joked as they stayed together, coming down. 

Miguel let go of Ryan's softening dick, enabling him to put both arms around Ryan, low, near his waist. Ryan just stayed there, leaning on him, practically burrowing into him, arms wrapped around Miguel in turn still, their cheeks brushing. 

"Maybe." Ryan laughed against his skin, dipping his head towards Miguel's throat with it. "But it was fucking beautiful to watch."

"I think it was too much watching for your dick to handle, Ryan."

"Mm...probably." Ryan muttered happily with a little kiss to the soft spot behind Miguel's ear. "I was this close to dry-humping the fucking sink." Ryan said, reaching out to indicate the distance between his thumb and finger in a laughing gesture in front of Miguel's face. Ryan's head stayed mostly resting on Miguel's shoulder, though, soft breath caressing Miguel's skin.

Miguel laughed roughly at that, still catching his breath. He decided to lose it again in Ryan's mouth for a minute, guiding Ryan's lips back up to his. After the kiss that had a lingering, exhausted, sweetness to it, Ryan finally pulled up out of his slump against Miguel. He pulled back just enough to do up his pants, and Miguel looked down--

\--And was brought up short by what was _on_ his own pants.

"Shit…" Miguel groaned, but it wasn't happy this time. 

"Hmm…what?" Ryan slowly tensed the tiniest margin, losing his almost liquid relaxation just a little.

Miguel glanced pointedly down at his pants -- and where Ryan's climax had ended up.

"Oh, shit." Ryan echoed, actually seeming sorry and upset. "I'll take care of it."

"What are you going to do, lick them clean?" Miguel teased. Sure, this was fucking bad -- but instead of panicking, he was going with humor. He was too worn out, too blissed to do anything else. 

Ryan's grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "If it comes to that."

Ryan moved away and Miguel missed his heat. Ryan didn't look too happy about it either. He was scrounging over by the mop bucket.

"Ah-hah! Saved by shoddy prison labor. Nobody emptied the bucket." Ryan said as he stooped to wet a rag.

"Damn, baby. Who knows what's in that shit. It's filthy." But Miguel wasn't really complaining. He'd smelled worse, he'd been dirtier.

Ryan came back over, closer than necessary, and wiped the stain away as best as he could. 

There was that odd tenderness still in his eyes, even as he was aggravatedly muttering very sincere obscenities down at the stain. He did manage to get it off. _Thank-fucking-Christ_. It was bad enough that Miguel had to deal with coming in his pants -- that, at least wasn't visible yet. Ryan backed off, tossing the wet rag back into the bucket with his accomplishment.

"Now I've got a wet spot." It wasn't a complaint so much as an observation. This was actually better, and it was too close to his pocket to look like he'd pissed himself. He just looked sloppy. 

"Here, put this in your front pocket. If you hang it right, you can cover it up some." Ryan pulled something out of the back pocket of his own low slung pants.

A worn blue bandana.

Miguel had never seen Ryan wear any bandana. Ever. Even when he'd been bald from the chemo. Which was good, because he would've looked like a demented milkmaid and Miguel didn't even want to let that visual enter his mind. 

Still…Miguel stared at it in sudden recognition as Ryan handed it to him. "Is this mine?"

Ryan ignored the question by getting back close, face burying in Miguel's neck again, although this time it was probably partially to avoid Miguel's eyes, laying some last tapering kisses along his throat. They both…shivered a little with it. Miguel abruptly remembered stealing Dr. Nathan's stethoscope for Ryan. He'd wanted it…just because it was hers.

_Oh._

Suddenly that soft something in grey-green eyes started to click in Miguel's head with all the other evidence that seemed so obvious now. Painfully obvious, actually. How fucking blind had Miguel been? All that emotion had been clear in Ryan's eyes, Miguel had noticed that at least. He just…hadn't realized how deep it ran. 

Because he was a fucking idiot, apparently. Because he had never believed that shit could live here. Love. Ryan had always believed in it, though.

Part of Miguel's mind went reeling again. But he still didn't move away. He just reached over to cup Ryan's jaw, pulling him back for another nice long kiss that got him that happy hum of Ryan's into his mouth. It quieted down Miguel's mind a little.

"We got to go back?" Miguel asked, managing to sound casual, not betraying his discovery. Ryan's feelings had been there for a while, Miguel realized. Miguel just hadn't fucking seen them for what they were until now. But Ryan wasn't admitting it, and he wasn't asking for anything more in return. It didn't really change anything. That thought kept Miguel steady.

Miguel didn’t want to leave, not yet. But it seemed like he was always being pulled away too soon from Ryan now.

Ryan checked his watch quickly before looking back up. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, biting it softly with his grin, as he shook his head in the negative. "Nuh-uh."

"Good." Miguel reached out to hook his fingers in Ryan's belt loops, tugging him closer. Not that he needed to, Ryan was already pressing back against him without the urging. "How much time we got?" Miguel asked idly.

"About fifteen minutes." Ryan said easily, amused, leaning back into Miguel. "We got off pretty fucking fast."

Their amused smiles met in another softly biting kiss, laughing quietly into each other's mouths. Yeah, they'd be fine. Bandanas and hearts could be dealt with.

They didn't do anything else but stay close. Bodies brushing, but not pressed tight. Nice and lazy. Ryan's hands were gliding idly over him, just enjoying the freedom to touch. Miguel liked the feel of that light skim over his skin.

He dipped his fingers down around Ryan's waistband, with no real goal. Just playing. Feeling that body. Only bare skin underneath his pants, no fucking underwear. Definitely sexy.

"Is it laundry day?" Miguel asked, teasing, as his fingers dipped lower into Ryan's pants to stroke the soft skin, slightly sprinkled with coarse hair, leading down.

"No." Ryan said succinctly, with a wicked grin.

"Very nice." Miguel complimented, smirking, but meaning it. His hand twinged with a bit of dull pain, and he reached back out of Ryan's pants. He rolled his wrist lightly. Felt sore, and it gave him a slight pang. Not bad, but definitely noticeable. It made him a bit instinctively ginger and restricted with it. He hadn't noticed it at all at the time. "Damn, my wrist is going to be fucked up all day."

"What…why?" Ryan murmured, pulling back a little to look, lightly grasping Miguel's hand in one of his own, rough fingers of the free hand going to stroke over Miguel's wrist in examination.

That felt good too. In a better, less fleeting way. And Ryan must have really been surprised and concerned if he didn't even get in a jab about carpal tunnel. 

"Why?" Miguel snorted, amused. "Because you were practically fucking my fist into the wall."

Well, technically, he'd been fucking it into Miguel's hip and leg, but same point. The bad angle had strained his wrist.

Ryan looked a little strained himself at that. Almost like he was afraid, but covering it up with hard denial. "I wasn't _fucking_ you." 

It was the word then. The real meaning behind it this time. The realization Miguel had already come to earlier of what Ryan's body had wanted.

Miguel felt oddly calm inside. Still. Maybe, surprisingly, more so after realizing how strong Ryan's real feelings possibly were, with the discovery of what seemed to be his missing bandana in Ryan's obsessive possession. Miguel didn't know what that would mean for them, but right now he felt like he could roll with it. And he projected that inner calm for Ryan -- because O'Reily seemed inches from freaking out defensively at the prospect of Miguel freaking out. Which Miguel strangely wasn't, even though he wasn't sure what he thought about it. He'd freak out thinking about it later. Miguel's ass was in no immediate danger, judging by Ryan's reaction. Ryan wasn't planning anything, or scheming, or he'd be a lot fucking smoother about it. 

"Yeah, it was definitely fucking." Miguel said simply, with a little smirk, before kissing Ryan to stop anything else from coming out of his mouth. Afterward, Miguel looked down at his wrist…that Ryan was still holding lightly. "It's okay, it'll be fine." He wasn't just talking about his wrist. But he couldn't give Ryan any hope of going further because considering that right now was too much for Miguel's head to handle with all the other new shit currently in it. "It was just my hand, not my ass." He joked it away, carefully putting the subject off without opening up the possibility for now.

Ryan just seemed relieved, not disappointed. "Sorry." 

Ryan pulled him into the kiss this time, after that quiet apology. One that kept Miguel's nerves calm and made him feel like he could handle all the shit in his head. Then Ryan was really pulling back, making Miguel wonder...

...until Ryan disappeared downwards to sit, easy and graceful, even with the thump of his shoes and comfortably shifting body. Miguel looked down at Ryan on the ground in an open, sprawling sitting position. Ryan kicked a leg out a little more to nudge Miguel's leg.

"What are you doing?" Miguel asked dumbly.

"Sitting. It's what we do when we're tired of standing." Ryan explained in an amused, slightly patronizing tone. "Especially helpful when we've just had a nice fuck and want to relax."

Miguel rolled his eyes, and went to sit across from Ryan, his back still against the wall. Their slightly spread legs, up with knees bent, mingled a little. Brushing, knocking comfortably as they just...talked. And it wasn't about the tit trade or any schemes. They took a moment to themselves, because they had the time. 

They talked about shit that was just about them, hanging out without talking business. It was something they were doing more and more often lately. Ryan, and his creative, sarcastic mouth made Miguel laugh, spurring him on, those grey-green eyes keeping that joyful light in them. It matched how Miguel felt. Miguel wasn't thinking about raggedy ass bandanas, or what might be in his shark's heart, or any of the confusing, potentially mind-blowing things he'd just discovered. He'd rather just feel this. Hang out and have...fun. 

Fucking odd day.

And Miguel was pretty sure he was liking it.

**

End


End file.
